Titulum Peccati
by Ehanu Rehu
Summary: The universe is a big place. Thousands of light-years still awaiting exploration, keeping secrets unknown to the rest of Council space. The Reapers were proof of that, as much as the Council is loathe to admit it. But there are yet secrets that even the Reapers, or their masters, the Leviathans know about. Even the apex races can be surprised.
1. The Watchers

**Welcome to my new fic. I was gonna wait until after "Molten Warrior" was finished, but I'm too impatient for that at this point. This will be the grandest Halo/Mass Effect X-over you have all seen. At least, I hope so.**

**Ladies and gentlemen, I now present "Titulum Peccati."**

IWHBYD

The Reapers are not as invincible as thought. They are weak, having perfected their illusion of dominance, born of absolute arrogance millennia ago. They believe themselves to be flawless. Therein lies their doom.

As weak as they are, there has yet to be a species that can challenge them.

The Reapers created the Mass Relay Network, seeking to guide all of the galaxy's evolution to the point of optimal harvest. The system was perfect, giving rise to space-faring civilizations centuries, even millennia, before they would have discovered such technology. Then, at the height of the cycle, the Reapers moved en masse, relentlessly harvesting every advanced species. Only the primitive, beast-like races were spared to give rise to the next cycle.

Every cycle saw their heroes, the unstoppable war machine, the brilliant scientist. Every cycle saw progress on the weapon-of-many-names, each cycle further than the last. But they all fell the same. Hope was rekindled with the next cycle, but on a false foundation as the Reapers had erased as much as they could of the species of that cycle.

For the longest time, it seemed the galaxy was destined for this eternal loop. The Reapers were seemingly the ultimate authority on the evolutionary paths of all species in the galaxy. None could stand against them.

But there were factors that not even the Reapers could have foreseen. Factors that were never part of their equation.

Factors that could very easily kill a Reaper.

We are the Leviathan, only one of such factors. In our travels through the galaxy, we saw many things, learned many secrets, and watched silently. Being the masters of the Reapers, we had also made the mistake of believing the Reapers nigh-unstoppable. The only force capable of tearing them down, we believed, was our own ranks.

Those mysterious factors were to become a major boon in the upcoming struggle against the Reapers. The day of reckoning was fast approaching for them, and the salvation of all lesser species was right behind that day.

This is one of those stories, not the only story of the Reapers' reckoning, but not the least significant either.

This story is of the Titulum Peccati. The Monument of Sin.


	2. Reparations and Preparations

**Some notes on this story before it begins.**

**I will be taking some liberties with Halo canon, as this story is more or less a sequel to "Molten Warrior." Don't worry, I will still be working on that story as I work on this one. But, I will drop occasional hints here and there on what happened during that time to allow all these folks to survive.**

**But for the full story, you'll have to wait for the completion of those chapters.**

**And now, so it begins.**

IWHBYD

The Conduit sat in the middle of the Presidium lakes, inactive and unassuming. For all intents and purposes, it was, once again, a Prothean Monument to the Mass Relays.

But to Shepard, sitting at a lake-side café while sipping his beer, it stood for the victories over the Reaper, Sovereign and his thrall, Saren. Victories that came at no small cost. The losses of the space battle, the counts of civilian deaths...

And Kaidan.

Shepard didn't regret the decision he made on Virmire to help Ashley out with the bomb. But Kaidan had been a friend to Shepard and a member of his crew.

It was like losing Jenkins all over again. It was times like these when Shepard wondered if it all was truly worth it in the end.

Shepard turned away from the view and looked towards the rest of the café where the crew and squad of the Normandy had set up. From the look of things, Garrus and Wrex were currently having a drink-off, competing to see who would fall over dead-drunk first.

Shepard sipped his beer again and smiled.

Privately, he bet Wrex would win by far. The old Krogan had the benefits of a hardened system characteristic to his race. Wrex would likely out-drink Garrus. But on the other hand, Garrus was probably one of the most stubborn Turians Shepard knew. Garrus could possibly hold on by sheer will-power alone.

They started their competition and Shepard observed the rest of the café.

He noticed a Hanar a few yards away, standing(?) at the guard rail staring(?) across the Presidium. Shepard could tell the Hanar was nervous about something.

Shepard continued his sweep of the restaurant, next seeing an Asari and a Krogan sitting next to each other. It was immediately evident that they were discussing something. Oddly, it was the Asari with the hardened expression and the Krogan carrying a distraught one. There seemed something faintly romantic about it.

Across the way from them sat a Turian General that Shepard recognized. It was General Oraka, drinking again, but he seemed more relaxed this time around than actively trying to drown himself in alcohol. Right by Oraka was the Normandy crew, observing the nearby drink-off of Garrus and Wrex.

Past them, he noticed Tali, Ashley, and Liara quietly observing the others, occasionally smiling.

The last person of interest, though, brought Shepard's observation to a close.

It was a Turian, a high-ranking one in the military if the uniform was any indication. As per the norm with Turians, he was indistinguishable from others of his kind, save for a darker plate coloration and white face paint. He moved with purpose and obvious intent. It didn't take long for Shepard to see that he was the intent of this Turian. Shepard sat a little straighter and set down his glass on noticing this. He wasn't worried, but was more curious as to what the Turian's interest was in Shepard.

"Excuse me," the Turian said as he neared, "but are you the one called Commander Shepard?"

"Yes, how can I help you... general?" Shepard said, noticing the rank at the last second.

"My name is Adrien Victus, and I just want to thank you, on the part of all Turians, for taking down Saren. Given, he was one of the best, if not the best, Spectre Agent the Council had. But he was a disgrace to all that the Turian race stands for and everything the Council seeks to uphold. The bullet from your gun was a gift of mercy to many."

"It wasn't my bullet that ended him," Shepard said.

"Yes, I actually heard the rumors, but wanted to hear it from you," Victus said.

"So what is it that you need?" Shepard said, "Thanking me for what I did a few days ago can't be all that you came to me for."

General Victus said nothing at first, standing from the table to look across the Presidium. Shepard stood and leaned with his back against the rail, waiting patiently for Victus to gather his thoughts. If the flange of his mandibles was any indication, Shepard knew that the General was worried.

"Commander, the task I come to ask of you may seem simple, trivial even," Victus said.

"I'm up for anything to help another out," Shepard said, "with the Council in slight disarray, I've got some free time to help you."

"Thanks for that, but the task I ask of you is of the highest importance. I request that you find a detachment of troops I sent to investigate a Salarian outpost that went silent a few cycles ago," Victus said. "We were providing security for them, so when both the Salarians and our Turian security detachment went silent, it was naturally of high interest to the Turian military."

"If you already sent someone to take care of it, then why are you coming to me?"

"Because, Commander, as of now, I still don't know the status of that detachment," Victus said, his expression dropping, "it was the 28th platoon of the Armiger Legion, a battle-group of 25 Havoc soldiers. They are, simply put, the best of the Turian military. If they can't handle a situation, there are precious few options I have left. Of all the options, I think you are the most able of them all."

Shepard's mouth drew into a taut line, but he continued to listen.

"The Salarian base we were tasked to upkeep was a research center on the moon 2499 Diluvium. It's out of the way, in Sigurd's Cradle, orbiting the gas giant Primordius," Victus said, "I'll send you a dossier and payment, should you accept."

"Give me a couple days for my crew to, ah..." Shepard glanced at the drink-off, "...prepare and I'll take care of it."

General Victus held out his hand, "Thank you, Commander. The research going on in that base is too critical for its silence to go unnoticed."

Shepard took the Turian General's talon in his hand, saying, "only doin' my job, General. But if you don't mind me asking, what exactly was that place researching."

"That's classified, but I'm sure you'll find out," Victus said, "You aren't a Spectre just for shooting stuff up."

Shepard was, indeed, mentally capable. Turians and Salarians working together could mean a multitude of things, but Shepard had a foreboding as his mind began to come up with theories on the research. He was close to pressing the General for more answers, drilling into him for information.

"We'll get it done, General," Shepard said, instead.

Victus nodded, satisfied Shepard would hold up to his end of the deal, and turned to leave the café. Shepard eased back into the chair, taking particular care with the spot on his thigh that narrowly avoided one of Saren's carnage blasts.

"Oh, and Shepard," Victus said, turning from a few tables over.

Shepard looked over, curious.

"For the record, I believe what you stated to the Council, of Saren's ship being a Reaper," Victus said, turning and resuming his march outwards.

Outwardly, Shepard was a blank slate, but within, he was smiling grimly.

_A lotta good a General's belief does. If what Sovereign said is true, it may already be too late._

IWHBYD

_"This cycle is... unique. Watching from my silent hostel in the center of all galactic civilization, I follow the events with... intrigue. Events now unfold that are disturbing in their import._

_"The one called Shepard has displayed a resolve rarely seen in organics. He has traits that draw many to him, and overcomes the barriers of centuries-old hatred. Strange, that such a man from an orphaned background would rise to become so well-known. He appears to desire talking to fighting, words over bullets. Perhaps the ancient phrase 'the pen is mightier than the sword' holds true after all?_

_"I will watch in eager anticipation to how he will deal with the coming storms."_

IWHBYD

_Events are now in motion to shape the entire galaxy. This Harvest will be incomplete, the first in thousands of cycles. Our machined thralls that turned on us will meet with a reckoning._

_But at what cost? To see a catastrophic outbreak of darkness, never before seen or comprehended? To see brother turn on brother, parent devours child?_

_Our synthetic servants were built to preserve life, but turned on that very purpose for an apostate interpretation of the role. This new... Abomination seeks no altruism, buried as it is under a single-minded clouding of blind obedience. This Abomination only seeks to consume, futile in its search to sate its impossible hunger._

_Will this be the end of all life, of all cycles, of all sentience. The darkness must not be breached, but we fear that it will only be overtaken._

_Even now, the human ship "Normandy" is headed to the base of the Abomination. Unprepared as he is, he will fail._

_And when the Exemplar falls, so, too, will all life._

IWHBYD

*Warning: code sette sierra. Anomalous event recorded. Probe coordinates: system 35084, planetoid 43. Anomalous energy signatures detected flaring randomly around planetoid and nearby world. Event lasted for 28 minutes, in which flares of unknown energy occurred. Over 50 occurrences were recorded before a nearby signature knocked out probe communications for [unspecified time] before normal functions resumed. As per protocol number 77647, all scanning equipment was activated and preliminary data was recorded. Sending relevant data to nearest recording station.*


End file.
